


a little light and a lack of sleep

by Eveningeyes



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Blood and Violence, Dark Rey (Star Wars), Dreams and Nightmares, Dry Humping, Dry Sex, Dubious Consent, Empress Rey, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Forbidden Love, Force Lightning, Gratuitous Smut, Heavy on Fantasy, Historical Fantasy, Historical Inaccuracy, Like The Witcher and GoT we're like...sup, Like author didn't even try, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rey Needs A Hug, Rey Pal-, Rey Palp-, Smut, Sorry I can't without throwing up, The Force, Unhealthy Relationships, Visions, bc - Freeform, but yes she is related to that harrowing raisin, buzz buzz - Freeform, in fact, oh yeah forgot about that bit, seriously where's the plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23591359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eveningeyes/pseuds/Eveningeyes
Summary: The Empress slowed her hips. Her hands cupped his face, directing his half-lidded gaze into hers as she spoke to him.“You are mine now. Every breath you take is from air I own, the cloth that covers your back comes from the silk of *my* plains. I will give you glorious weapons, and you will fight for my name. So long as you serve, Sir Ren, you belong to me. Is that understood?”orHer Highness Rey of the Continental Empire finds use of her latest prisoner, Sir Kylo Ren of Alderaan. Her methods are less than one would deem "healthy".
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 14
Kudos: 72
Collections: The Perfect Date - Pink Ladies Spring Exchange





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [klutzybriefing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/klutzybriefing/gifts).



> TAGS!! TAGS!! TAGS!! CHECK EM!! THIS FIC IS KINDA VIOLENT AND DUB-CON!!! 
> 
> Okay, with that out of the way...
> 
> This work is a gift for klutzybriefing, based on song prompts and general trope outlines. I loved your songs (they slap) and your tropes made me stretch out of my comfort zone a little, but I had a great time. I really hope you like this <3
> 
> Thank you to a secret special person who not only helped me with this amazing idea but encouraged me to keep going! Once the spell (anon) is lifted I'll thank you properly ;)

THE EMPRESS’S QUARTERS, DAWN

Tangled sheets wrapped around Rey ’s legs as she twisted and turned in her sleep. In her mind, savagery was taking place and she could not escape.

* * *

_ Large fingers with firm touch squeeze her throat, stifling the blood that rushes to her skull. Another hand spreads her cunt apart, thumbing her clitoris. Stifled moans escape her lips. _

**_That’s it_ ** _ , his dark voice rumbles,  _ **_let me hear you_ ** _. _

_ She obeys him, moaning more, and his thumb moves her clit in circles before he drives his tongue in her ear. _

_ Rey sucks in as much air as she can through the stranger’s hanging hair. It smells like rain, sour soil, and old blood. His touch is ravenous. It’s too much, too harsh, but she can’t stop him. _

_ She can’t escape. She doesn’t  _ want _ to. _

_ The hand on her throat disappears, replaced by a hot mouth, and she hears the distant jingle of a belt buckle. The thumb that ravages her clit moves faster, and there’s no air left to breathe. _

**_I’m gonna make you mine_ ** _ , he growls into her skin. She feels the warm, spongy head of his cock tease at her cunt. She clamps around nothing, desperate for a filling need. Then, she feels it, the teasing finally over with, and as he pushes in, stretching her blissfully… _

* * *

Rey jolted up in bed, late-night air fire-like as it scorched her lungs and powdered her quarters in thick, unbreathable plumes. She peeled off the sweat-soaked slip that clung to her back and tossed it on the floor. Then she rested her heavy head in her hands. From her quarter’s balcony, shrikes sang and chirped. Dawn, they declared, as if just to tease her. Rey sighed, then pulled her dark silk sheets up to her neck before collapsing on the mountain of embroidered bed pillows. She breathed deeply, staring at her ceiling mural while trying to piece together the meaning of her nightmare.

As moments passed, more and more of the dream floated away. The ache he left still agonized her abdomen, her cunt squeezing around nothing but a miserable memory. And when her breathing finally evened, all she could remember were his final words.

_ I’m gonna make you mine. _

This was the sixth night she’d heard them. The setting was always different, the position or act differed as well, but his voice, his _words_ , they always remained the same. Someone, some stranger, vowed to claim her in her dreams. And the worst part was she wasn’t afraid at all.

She  _ wanted _ it.

* * *

THE FIGHTING PITS, MIDDAY

High noon scorched every cloud in Naboo’s bright sky, leaving no barrier between the lush lands and the sun’s harsh blaze. The heat sought and gathered on every surface, from Rey’s embellished crown to her thickly braided hair, to the jewel-like beads in her silk-spun gown. Pebbles of sweat dripped from underneath her breast, and she cursed her dresser for picking  _ black _ today. Of all days, when she’d be sitting from the highest perch and closest to the seething sun.

The foul stench of the fighting pits, ripe with ale and pig shit, poisoned the air even up in her bird’s nest. Rey found the Trial of the Accused an uncivilized, frivolous occasion and a downright waste of time. But if her people enjoyed watching criminals slaughter each other for their freedom, she’d acquiesce. Plus, it was a fine way to clear out her prison cells. With her current conquest of the going well, she desperately needed the room.

They’d been chanting for hours, oblivious to the smells and the sun in their dire need for bloodshed. And she would reward them. The Empress stood from her chair and her people cheered, knowing what was to come. Their cries of admiration became louder and faster as she closed on the balcony edge. She raised her jewel-adorned hand.

_ Silence. _

Rey lifted her chin and her hand towards Naboo’s bright blue sky and closed her eyes. She burrowed deep within herself, searching for that familiar spark. She found it, and with a thunderous  _ crackle _ , blue lightning burst from her fingertips and shattered the sky.

The crowd cheered as the electricity spread across the horizon and gathered storm clouds above their heads. Another crack of thunder and freshwater rained down, showering them of their sins and officiating the start of the Trial of the Accused.

Rey smiled and returned to her seat, the fresh rain relieving her skin as it misted through the air. She brought a crystal glass to her lips and sipped, relinquishing in the tannic deliverance of good wine. Now she could watch men tear limb from limb comfortably.

The fighting pit’s dirt turned into a muddy mess and to the sound of trumpets, prisoners emerged from the dark canals with weapons in hand. A second trumpet sounded, and without hesitation, the accused began to kill one another.

Men fought for many things on this occasion. Freedom, absolution, coin. Many generations ago, men would fight for the right to the Princess’s bed, but thankfully those days were long past. Rey smirked at the thought. She’d happily strike down any man who was foolish enough to try.

Soon the mud blackened with spilled blood and smells of metal overpowered the ale and shit. The swords that once struck so valiantly now cleaved sloppily, as all of the fighters were beginning to tire.

All, save one. One that, no matter how far he was from the Imperial booth, was hard to keep from the Empress’s sight. The fighter was impressively tall and wondrously broad, clad in metal armor the color of midnight. It matched his rain-soaked raven hair. Rey wondered if it matched his eyes. Other men made war cries but this one barely spoke a word, he just  _ cleaved _ and  _ sliced _ and  _ stuck _ his weapon into the bellies of other men. He, for lack of adequate words, was a brute.

_ She could use a brute. _

Rey leaned over to her second in command, the general of her ground troops, Finn. “Which one is that? The man in all black?”

“Sir Kylo Ren, your Excellency. Exiled from Alderaan.”

_ Alderaan? _

“How did he end up in our courts?”

“Stealing. Vandalism. Murder.”

Rey pondered. “Not common attributes for a knight.”

“But for a fearsome fighter?”

Rey took another sip of wine.

_ Yes, fearful indeed. _

She kept her eye on Sir Ren, though soon it was hard not to. He slaughtered the other prisoners effortlessly, though without a hint of enjoyment. Somehow, that irked her.

When the last fighter slumped over his innards, Ren tossed his sword into the mud.

Finn stood and addressed the prisoner. “Sir Ren, you have fought valiantly in the Trial of the Accused and the Gods have smiled down on you. You shall be rewarded wi-”

“I demand an audience with the Empress!” Ren shouted from below.

A chill rolled up Rey’s spine. His _ voice. _

Finn scowled. “You demand  _ nothing _ , prisoner!”

But Ren stood proudly, still. “I have participated in your foolish game and won. I demand an audience with Her Highness Rey of the Continental Empire!”

Finn sputtered, detested by the prisoner’s rash words.

Rey stood from her chair and walked forward, placing a gentle hand on Finn’s shoulder, though she remained unsmiling. He bowed and stepped away from the balcony’s edge, allowing her to take his place. Rey leaned over the perch curiously, peering down at the dark knight. The audience, upon seeing her, took to their knees. Like watching wind flatten a meadow, the entire amphitheater lowered with respect. All, except for the knight in black.

Rey glowered from above. He would not take a knee, an act that infuriated her. She raised her hand and snapped her fingers, and a sharp fleck of lightning struck the ground at his feet. And where most men would crumble in fear, Sir Kylo Ren of Alderaan stayed true and defiant.

Rey called her guards. “Take him away.”

It took four burly men to push Ren down to his knees and drag him out of the arena, but as he did, the Empress’s residual anger tormented the skies.

Rey watched their figures disappear into the shadows. He had embarrassed the crown and she  _ let _ him. Anger racked her bones, and in an attempt to win back the attention of her people, she released fireworks of azure into the sky.

* * *

THE EMPRESS’S QUARTERS, MIDNIGHT

Hours later, the fire in her blood still raged with the memory of his defiance. The emotion curled itself in her brain, wrapping around deep insecurities she had buried long ago. She could  _ not _ let a man defy her. Not here, not in this world. Her people thought her a God, and yet she could still lose them to the whims of a man. She  _ couldn’t _ . She had sacrificed too much for that to happen.

She didn’t realize she was squeezing her wine glass until it shattered in her grasp, littering her golden desk in shards of reddened crystal.

She would  _ not _ let him defy her.

Rey donned a cowl and snuck out from her quarters. She did not light a candle, for she did not want to be seen, questioned, or followed. Once outside, she walked so briskly that the midnight air bloated her cape, animating it as if it were alive itself. Rey twisted through the Imperial garden like a viper. Scents of rose and snapdragon stained her clothes and keen thoughts of the knight clouded her mind.

When the thorny rosebush became steel underneath her feet, she knew she was close. As soon as she entered the prison keep, a guard noticed her appearance and straightened himself. Before he could speak, she rushed over and placed a hand on his cheek.

“ _ Calm, _ darling, I was never here,” she sang into his ear.

“You were never here,” he echoed and returned to his slack posture.

With all the prisoners dead, there would be no need to guard a cell. That was, of course, unless one prisoner remained. A devious smile curled on Rey’s lips. She had found what she was looking for.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Empress takes her prize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gentle reminder to CHECK THE TAGS!!!! This fic is dubious consent! 
> 
> Okay. 
> 
> Enjoy! <3

THE IMPERIAL DUNGEON, MIDNIGHT

Ben Solo stirred against the cold, dewy brick wall of his cell. It must have been midnight, the way the moon’s distant glow lit up the cells. He should rest, but, the way his wrists were chained he could barely sit comfortably, let alone catch a wink of sleep. Half his ass fell numb, while the other half burned with aching, spark-like pricks. The foul stench wouldn’t abate either, keeping him more awake than any noise could.  _ Men have rotted here before _ , he realized. He shook his arms again but the chains did not budge. He was going to rot here, too.

“You seem lonely. Fancy a guest?” a satin-like voice called to him from the bars of his cell. It was a woman, her face covered by a cowl and the dark of night.  _ How did she get past the guard _ , he wondered.

“I have no coin, wench,” he growled. “Get lost.”

“Choice words for your audience, Sir Ren.” The woman lowered her cowl, and though it was mid-summer, the air froze in Ben’s chest.

He immediately lowered his head with shame, whispering, “Empress, forgive me. I meant nothing of it.”

She stood unmoving, but he could feel the heat of her stare burrow into his shoulders. It was a meticulous, analytic smolder.

“Please, heed my word,” he pleaded.

Her tone remained stern. Acidic. “You’ve angered the Crown in many ways today, Sir Ren, don’t mock me with false oaths.”

Ben nodded, keeping his chin down. What was he expecting, rose cakes and fruit water? He’d made such a spectacle earlier, he was surprised the tyrant of Naboo hadn’t killed him yet.

_ That’s right _ , he realized,  _ her fire only struck my feet. _

She began pacing and Ben peeked up to steal a glimpse of her skirt. From beneath his hanging hair he saw golden feathers and emerald velvet hover over the mud, showering her steps with affluence and power. She was more dazzling than the rumors, he thought. More terrifying, too.

“What are you after?” she asked in a firm tone.

Ben hesitated and buried his teeth into his lip. He made an oath not to give in to her, but her presence made him weary, intoxicating his blood with poisons of cruel attraction and… what was this?  _ Compassion? _

The Empress continued. “You rejected your chance at freedom, recognition, or coin. After you’d slaughtered the last of my prisoners, you were so desperate for my attention.” Her voice softened. “Yet now you fall silent. It does cause one to wonder…”

She placed her slight hand on the thick metal bars of his cell, and as effortlessly as willow branches in a summer breeze, they moved away from her form. The metal creaked and groaned as she stepped through, curling from the fringes of her cape. Almost as if the cage itself was afraid of her. Ben had never seen anything like it. He gaped as she came forward. She squatted down to look at him.

“What is it that you desire?” she asked again.

Ben bit down harder until his tongue coated in blood.

Her patience stretched thin, it seemed, because the once calm glide in her voice turned coarse. “No matter. I’ll find out for myself.”

Suddenly, Ben felt a surging, dagger-like pain rip through his mind. It shocked his spine and his head flew backward, knocking harshly into the brick wall behind him. He cried out, but the splinter-like motion of the feeling kept reaching and  _ ripping _ until it covered his body in spikes. His vision blurred, receded into whiteness, and then flowed back in wave-like rhythms. When he could see, he glimpsed over to Her Highness of the Continental Empire.

The Empress’s features were tight in a deep scowl, her eyes closed and open hand hovering over his temple. “Don’t fight it, darling,” she said, the soothing satin-like tones back again. “It only makes the pain worse.”

Ben cried out as another wave of pain riddled his head. It was like a serpent was slithering through his mind and striking his thoughts, his  _ memories, _ and he couldn’t stand it. No oath could have prepared him for this. For _ her. _ And he couldn’t fight it any longer. With a whimper, he relaxed and let the phantom reptile take over. As it crawled through, the stinging began to subside.

The Empress purred, “ _ That’s it, _ easy now.” Her fingers reached over and touched his cheek. Her thumb grazed his bloody lip.

Ben saw flashes of memories in the whiteness. He saw his mother’s outstretched hand and his horse passing the borders of his homeland. Then, desperate nights in his own bed, crying and scraping at his tormented mind. He saw his uncle, urging him to fight the darkness, to fight the pull from whatever called him. And after that, a cottage collapsing into columns of smoke.

But also, deeper, he saw something else. And by the way the Empress gasped, he knew she saw it too. A thick, ravenous roar came from his throat, and then both of them witnessed something spectacular.

A young woman with rustled chestnut hair and hazel eyes laid naked on dark silk sheets, her mouth open and begging. Sweat dripped from her weak, splayed thighs, and cream oozed from her reddened cunt. Soundless was the vision, yet it spoke plenty.

The Empress ripped her phantom reach from his mind in a hurry, shocking them both. Ben’s head knocked into the brick again, then snapped low to hide from her gaze. He couldn’t imagine the anger she must have felt, or how it could compare to the shame building in his soul.

He peeked through his long hair, and she looked, well, she didn’t look angered at all. She looked in awe.

“You desire... _ me, _ ” she whispered.

Hot blood spread over Ben’s back in a furious cascade. It spread up his neck and curled in his ears. Some, down to his groin. He did not dare look at her.

“And you’re afraid,” she added.

Ben’s hot blood turned to boil. “I am  _ not _ afraid of you!” he spat.  _ How he wanted to run away _ . The enemy of his homeland, naked and wanton in his dreams, and now she knew.

She adjusted herself, made herself closer to him. “No, not of me.  _ Of course _ you’re not afraid of me, Son of Alderaan.” Her lithe fingers grazed the angle of his jaw, savoring it. “You’re afraid of yourself. And how much you  _ want _ me.”

Ben flinched, the blood from his mouth turning to sick in his stomach. But as much as it disgusted him, he could not deny her words.

So when she moved again, stepping over his chained body and settling her hips in his lap, he did not deny her. Her warmth spread through his trousers, and his cock twitched as rushing blood made it swell.

She purred again, “And you do want me, don’t you?” Her hips rocked against his, and nothing could hold back the whimper that escaped his throat.

She rocked into him again, and again until his cock was throbbing and stiff with blood. He heard her whispers in his ear. “I can sense your fears. They’re twirling in your mind and,” she took a deep breath, “pouring from you in plumes.”

Her mound continued to rock into his straining cock, milking him as she pressed herself into his clothes. Wetness soaked his trousers. Was it his? Could it have been hers, too? Ben  _ needed _ to touch her. Whether to throw her across the cell or to rip her bodice off, he didn’t know. He just cursed the chains that kept his wrists from her body.

Her breath became heady.

“You’re afraid. Not of me, but what you’ll do for me. Of how once you know what it  _ tastes _ like, you’ll do anything for it. Anything I ask. Kill, burn, pillage. Even death won’t free you from my bonds.”

She began to gyrate faster, and her right breast slipped out from the bodice of her gown. The nipple bounced in the air, all pebbled and pink. So close to his mouth, he yearned for it.

Hot wetness continued to play in his ear. “You’d go to Hell and whip the Old Gods until they’d allow you to taste me again.”

He felt his resilience bend and stretch. Each stroke of her warm hips against his throbbing cock splintered the glass of his strength, bringing him closer to ruin. Closer to her possession.

His enemy panted above him, smiling towards the sky. “Isn’t that right?”

With one final  _ rock _ , Ben began to unravel. Tightness in his groin clamped and squeezed until ecstasy shot out of him in spurts. He cursed and rejoiced as thick ropes of his seed shot from his cock, seeping through his trousers. The feeling was so overpowering, so  _ euphoric _ , that he didn’t notice much of anything else. He barely felt the cold, unforgiving chains at his wrists. He didn’t hear the words that crept from his lips, sealing his fate.

“Yes,” he breathed. And like that, the deed was done.

The Empress slowed her hips, savoring each whine that escaped him when she bucked into his sensitive, well-drained cock. Her hands cupped his face, directing his half-lidded gaze into hers as she spoke to him.

“You are mine now. Every breath you take is from the air  _ I _ own, the cloth that covers your back comes from the silk of  _ my _ plains. I will give you glorious weapons, and you will fight for my name. So long as you serve, Sir Ren, you belong to  _ me _ . Is that understood?”

Ben’s mind was heavy with the afterglow of his release, but he managed to nod into her hands.

“If you do this for me,” she gasped, recollecting her own breath, “I will reward you.”

She stood over him, stepping out of his lap and brushing off the skirt of her gown. Then, flippantly, she waltzed out of his cell, the metal bars returning to their stark positions by the tap of her fingers.

Before her shadow left, she whispered a dark promise, one that lingered in his mind as he drifted to sleep.

“Sleep well, Son of Alderaan. I’ll have a task for you in the morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far so smutty! Let's keep it going! <3

**Author's Note:**

> The goal is to include a lil smut in each chapter. I think I can do it! :)


End file.
